Confessions
by DreamingMyDreams
Summary: A soldier in the Church of the Silence gets more than she bargained for from one of the Confessional Priests (Silents). Oneshot. Also on AFF.


Disclaimer: I do not own The Silence/Silents or Doctor Who, they belong to Moffat and the BBC. I make no profits from this work.

All participants are well above the age of consent.

* * *

"Confess . . ." hissed something in the dark, close to where she stood.

Gulping, she spun around, pulling her gun from its holster and saw a very tall humanoid – one of the Priests, her mind whispered to her, remembering – stalking fluidly towards her.

"I have nothing to confess, Priest," she replied quickly, and in no way defensively, she thought to herself as she lowered her gun, replacing it with practiced ease.

These . . . _things_ always filled her with a mild sense of unease.

The Priest stopped his approach and stood two feet from her, the girl's fist clenching and unclenching with her unease.

"Confess," he hissed again, now more of an order rather than a simple suggestion.

A kind of . . . pressure filled her head and she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried, stop herself from blurting: "I wanna fuck you."

Her face flamed hotter than the sun, but she maintained eye contact with the creature. It was the truth, what had been forced from her. As much as they filled her with unease, she also had a certain . . . curiosity about them, an admiration of sorts; they were strangely beautiful.

If he was surprised, he only indicated it by blinking a few times, his shoulders squaring slightly.

Licking her lips, a hidden daring came over her and she sauntered over to him, whispering, "It was the truth, and you know this: I wanna fuck you."

She was right in front of him now, the closest she had ever been to one of them. It was exhilarating.

The creature towered over her, staring down at her, the girl having to crane her neck nearly all the way back just to keep eye contact with him.

Daringly, her heart thudding against her ribs, she reached out and touched him lightly on his chest, the Priest giving a little jump at the contact, but did not order her away.

He didn't move, save for his breathing, standing tensely.

Did he want this too? Was he just as curious about her as she was about him?

Carefully, she moved her hand over his chest, her other hand joining in on the exploration, and shyly stroked over his thin torso, stopping at his hips and then moving back up to his chest.

Cautiously, she toyed with a button on his suit jacket and after receiving no response – either positive or negative – she began to slowly unbutton his jacket. The black, silky material hung loosely from his imposing, lean frame and the sight made her mouth become dry; she had never seen one of the humanoids in any state of undress.

Swallowing her nervousness, she stroked his chest again, the warm, slightly bony flesh now only covered by the thin fabric of his black turtleneck. The Priest jumped again, but still made no response, his eyes boring down into hers. Trying to not be discouraged, she resumed her exploration of his torso, her curious fingers finding . . . ah yes, that definitely felt like a nipple. It was small – barely there in fact – but it was definitely a nipple. Excited now, she tweaked it gently, the humanoid finally responding to her advances by hissing quietly, his head tilting to the side. Smiling wickedly at her find, she tweaked the other one, receiving the same, quiet hiss from him.

"Please . . . tell me you want this . . . that I'm not just taking advantage of you . . .," she said quietly to him, a faint plea in her voice.

If he told her to stop, that she'd had her fun, then she would, without hesitation. She was not sure if this was even _allowed_ between them.

A quiet noise, almost like a purr, rumbled from him, and those hands – those absurdly large, long fingered hands – reached out to touch her, finally, one gently grasping her breast, while the other went to the small of her back, pushing her flush against him, against his –

"Oh," was all she could gasp out at feeling his erection press into her stomach.

"Indeed," he murmured, squeezing her breast and toying with her nipple, returning the torment.

"Ah, fuck," she groaned, her head rolling back, a shudder rippling through her.

Strong, wiry arms wound around her and lifted her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Carefully, the Priest carried her over to a dark alcove, illuminated only by the blue lights framing it, and put her down gently on the bench nestled within it, hovering above her.

"Is this even allowed?" she blurted, exhilarated, her pulse racing, heat pooling between her legs.

"I do not know. I have seen nothing that would say it is not," he replied, fondling both of her breasts now.

Quickly, her hands found the button on his pants, undoing it and his zipper hurriedly, reaching in to grab at his underwear-clad cock. Hissing, he bucked his hips and she squeezed him, his erection throbbing in her hand.

Something brushed against her lower abdomen, and she realised it was his fingers, searching for the button on her own pants. Removing her hand from his cock, she bent over to unlace her boots, toeing them from her feet. Carefully, she unclasped her gun holster and placed it to the side, away from their feet, before quickly unbuttoning and unzipping her pants. Kicking them from her, she laid them flat on the bench, and slightly shyer now, slipped her underwear down, stepping out of them.

Meeting his eyes, she found his face very close to hers, but did not recoil, instead smiling softly at him. Cautiously, she touched his cheek, his skin cool and surprisingly soft under her fingers, his warm breath puffing across her face. Tentatively, she closed the distance between them and kissed him on the blank space of skin where a mouth would be if he were human. The Priest jumped a little but didn't move back; something much more unexpected happened: the blank space opened beneath her lips and a tongue – warm and moist just like her own – cautiously licked over them. Gasping in surprise, her mouth opened and his tongue dove in, finding hers and coaxing it to dance with his.

His long fingers were trailing up her thigh, the humanoid carefully guiding her to sit on the bench, and she unconsciously spread her legs, groaning into the passionate kiss when those lovely, long fingers stroked over her sex, feeling the slick, hot lips of her pussy. Deftly, he found her clit, the girl jerking forward, her hands grasping desperately at him when he moved his fingers, rubbing softly over the engorged nub.

Breaking free from the kiss to breathe, she panted and groaned, her head rolling back when the speed of his fingers increased, her hips rocking into his touch. Moaning quietly, she bit her lip, whimpering as her climax rapidly approached, her body trembling. White-hot waves of pleasure crashed into her and she cried out, her body jerking and spasming, his fingers rubbing over her quickly, drawing out her pleasure until she could give no more.

Slumping bonelessly back into the wall of the alcove, she twitched and panted contentedly, the Priests' ragged breathing echoing her own as he removed his fingers. Fumbling with his pants, he slipped them and his underwear down, his cock springing free, the engorged, hard flesh throbbing and steadily weeping pre-cum.

Quickly, he grabbed her legs, hunching over in the small space, and pulled her close, the girl wrapping her legs around his hips. Positioning himself at her drenched entrance, he rubbed the head of his cock against her, groaning, and pushed forward, sheathing himself inside her tight, hot sex.

"Fuck . . .," she murmured, rolling her hips forward, feeling deliciously stretched.

Wasting no more time, he pounded into her, leaning down to join his mouth with hers again, swallowing her gasps and groans. Moving her hips in time with his, she gave as good as she got, slamming herself onto his cock, the wet slapping sounds of flesh meeting flesh filling her ears.

The thrill of being caught at any moment burned through her, fuelling her arousal, another orgasm fast approaching. A similar thing seemed to be happening to the straining humanoid above her: his body shook and trembled, his thrusts becoming faster and jerky.

Breaking free to breathe, she rested her face on his shoulder, her hands clutching at his back, grabbing fistfuls of his suit jacket.

"Ah, fuck, fuck, god!" she cried, her pussy clenching onto his cock as her climax rolled through her, her hips jerking into his.

Grunting, he thrust hard once more before she felt his seed spill into her, his hips rocking softly as he drew out his release, his cock twitching inside her.

Groaning, his movements stilled and he slumped forward onto her, panting heavily into her neck. Resting briefly, he pulled out, his cum gushing out of her.

Still panting, her eyes met his as he stood, righting his clothing, "You were a great lay, thankyou," she murmured, smirking.

The humanoid seemed to smirk back at her, his eyes gleaming in the dark as he passed her a handkerchief to clean herself with. Taking it from him, she quickly wiped up their combined fluids that clung to her skin.

"Ah, do you want this back?" she asked, holding out his soiled handkerchief.

"Discard it. I have many others."

Shrugging, she threw it on the floor and stood, kicking it beneath the alcove's bench. Reaching for her underwear and pants, she dressed quickly, fastening her gun holster back onto her thigh and shoving her feet back into her boots.

"I wish I could remember this," she murmured, more to herself than the Priest.

Something passed across his face and he quickly reached forward, digging through her pockets until he found her switchblade from a pocket on her thigh.

Gulping, she eyed him warily, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Hold out your arm," He commanded quietly.

"Are you insane? No!" she hissed, her fingers twitching over her gun.

"This will only hurt for a moment," he said, as if hoping it would ease her worry, "Hold out your arm," he repeated, a steady, gripping pressure filling her brain.

Against her will, her arm slowly raised and he took hold of it gently, pressing the button on her knife with his thumb, the blade popping out rapidly. He pressed the tip into the soft flesh of her forearm, below her elbow, and she braced herself as best she could. With ease, he carved a shallow, jagged 'S' into her, the girl hissing in pain, blood trickling down her arm.

"When you look at this, you will remember what transpired. When you see me, you will recognise me from the others . . .," he commanded softly, returning her sheathed knife to its home in her pocket.

Holding her arm protectively to her now that control of her body had been returned to her, she nodded, glaring up at him. Surely, another, less _painful_ and _invasive_ way would've sufficed.

Sighing quietly, he stroked her cheek with his fingers, "Go now, and return to your duties."

Obeying him out of her own will this time, she pushed passed him and out into the large, dark open space. She couldn't remember why she was here or what she was meant to be doing, but something was telling her to return to the mess hall for her shift in the kitchens. Rubbing at her face briefly, she wandered away toward the general direction of the mess hall, wondering why her legs felt like jelly. Frowning as she stood there thinking, her left arm throbbed suddenly and she gasped when she glanced down at it, a bloody, jagged 'S' staring back at her.

Her memories returned and she quickly looked back at the alcove, but saw nothing there. Gritting her teeth in anger, she stomped away with as much force as she could muster. The next time she saw him, she'd cut him a new one, of that she was certain.

Fin.


End file.
